


On Happiness

by pantswarrior



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, First Time, Fluff, Kink Meme, M/M, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-26
Updated: 2010-08-26
Packaged: 2017-10-11 06:25:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pantswarrior/pseuds/pantswarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of "For the World is Hollow, And I Have Touched the Sky", Kirk and Spock want to make absolutely sure that McCoy has his chance at happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Happiness

He'd have liked to be able to say his first day officially back on the job after treatment had gone well. It was true nothing had gone horribly wrong. No away teams returning to the ship bloody and bruised, no outbreaks of nonsensical alien diseases or space madness. Worst he'd seen that day was a young lieutenant who'd sprained his wrist trying to show off in the gym and a case of hives caused by an allergic reaction to some crazy thing Sulu had planted in the arboreteum. There wasn't even much to catch up on, considering his supposedly terminal illness had been so short-lived, and M'Benga was no slouch when it came to running the sickbay.

McCoy wouldn't wish for some calamity to befall the ship, of course, that would be stupid. But it might have been nice if Christine and M'Benga had left him _something_ to do, instead of cheerfully telling him he could take it easy.

He didn't _want_ to take it easy. There was still a residual ache in his head and in his heart, neither of which could be so easily ignored when he wasn't busy.

He'd tried to occupy his mind with research - were there any other cases of xenopolycythemia outstanding? He could transmit the data directly to the relevant colonies and starbases... But he kept having to stop scrolling through the pages of information, to rub at his forehead and pinch the bridge of his nose, as the text began to swim before him. When his shift ended, he should have been relieved that he could go back to his quarters and lie down, let M'Benga take care of whoever the cat dragged in, but he wasn't and he didn't. His quarters were empty, quiet... and he'd spent too much time like that.

Hadn't really noticed, until he met Natira and, for the first time in years, there was the possibility of _not_ being alone.

Of course, here in sickbay, he was never alone even if M'Benga had run off to the lab for a second; he heard footsteps behind him, two sets approaching. "Burning the midnight oil, Bones?" a casual, familiar voice teased.

"I wouldn't say that, Jim," McCoy replied, turning in his chair to look up at his captain and first officer. "It's still beta shift - not what I'd call midnight even if it _is_ dark out. Especially since it's always dark in space."

"As well, I neither see nor smell evidence of anything burning," Spock spoke up curiously.

"A colloquial expression, Spock," Jim explained, his teasing grin growing wider. "It means the good doctor is working overtime. You're not that busy, are you?"

McCoy shook his head. "No, just doing a little research. Something I can do for you two?" He'd welcome it.

"As a matter of fact, there is." Jim fixed him with a firm look, crossing his arms, despite the smile. "You can go to your quarters, Bones. You need rest."

"I was afraid you were going to say something like that," McCoy sighed. "Look - you barred me from doing my job until I'd finished treatment. I've spent too much time in my quarters lately as it is, and not enough time where I belong. Besides, I'm fine, I don't need any rest."

"A rather obvious lie," Spock observed, "based on the frequency with which you are blinking your eyelids. You appear to be experiencing some strain, perhaps from an excess of time spent at the monitor."

"These are state of the art monitors," McCoy informed him, somewhat protective of his equipment. "They don't cause eye strain - I'm just still recovering from the treatment, that's all. Besides, who does the diagnosing here in sickbay? I'll give you a clue - it's not the science officer."

"Bones..." Jim chastised him. "You always push yourself too hard. You do realize that time flows in only one direction, don't you? You can't make it up when it's lost."

"Tell that to him," McCoy muttered, gesturing in Spock's general direction. "Did you forget about that slingshot thing he did? Or that time he managed to do a cold start on the-"

"Okay, okay," Jim laughed. "But we're not doing that again unless we have to. And since you're not busy, I'd really rather my ship's doctor didn't work himself to death." That smile faded. "Not when I just got him back."

Jim's expression was serious and open. McCoy's, looking back at him, was defensive, almost a glare - but that look from Jim was a deadlier weapon than anyone's glare, even his, and he wilted under it. "Fine," he said, reluctantly. He must have been more tired than he thought, to give in so easily. Maybe he'd fall asleep fast.

Jim and Spock hung around while he waited for M'Benga to get back, to let him know he was leaving. That wasn't too unusual; of course they'd want to make sure he didn't just go back to what he was doing once they'd left. Somewhat more unusual was the way they followed him out of sickbay, down the corridor. Not towards the bridge, not towards their own quarters... "Really, you two, I don't think I need an honor guard," McCoy grumbled.

"Actually," Jim told him, "we have something to discuss with you."

"Is that so." McCoy gave them a look over his shoulders; Spock had fallen in at his right side, Jim at his left. "Both of you?"

"That is correct," Spock replied.

McCoy looked at him, waiting, but Spock didn't elaborate. And of course his expression gave no hint of whether it was good or bad. Jim didn't look too overly concerned, though, so that was something. "...All right..."

When they got to McCoy's quarters, the other two men followed him in, as he'd pretty much expected. "Have a seat, Bones," Jim told him, gesturing to the bed. "Relax."

Meanwhile, Spock was still standing beside the door, hands behind his back. He looked almost as if he were acting as security. McCoy gave the captain a skeptical look, but did sit down on the bed. "Is he gonna stand there and shoot me if I don't get some sleep?"

Jim laughed. "Not hardly. We have something to ask you, just a little... clarification."

"'We', huh...?" McCoy glanced back at Spock, who was staring off into space as if he was paying no attention whatsoever to the conversation. McCoy knew better, but still... "Jim, if this is one of those 'you know how glad we are that you're all right, don't you?' conversations, you can stop right there. You know there's no need to say it, we've all seen each other survive things that we shouldn't have survived several times already."

"The pain and the joy never fade," Jim murmured, sitting down in the chair by his desk. "But no, it's not about that." He'd grown serious again, and McCoy wasn't sure he liked that look in Jim's eyes - it looked like pity. "Bones," Jim began, leaning forward to address him. "Back there, on that asteroid, when you said you'd never been happy in your whole life... did you really mean that?"

McCoy stared at Jim, and barked out a short, incredulous laugh. "You're seriously asking me about..."

"Yes, I am."

And he _was_ serious. His eyes were fixed on McCoy, and again McCoy felt his barriers withering away. "...It was an exaggeration, Jim," he admitted. "It's not so much that I've sent my whole life _un_happy..." McCoy's eyes went to Spock, still standing there by the door. "I mean, I've had my moments - you've been there for some of them," he pointed out. "It's just that for a long time, it's seemed like... I'm missing something."

"Since you came to the Enterprise?" Jim inquired.

"Before that," McCoy muttered. "Look, you don't have to read into it too much - I'm not thinking of leaving the ship. At least here I'm doing something worthwhile. That's why I came back, instead of staying with the Fabrini and Natira."

"Well, that's good," Jim said with a nod. "You know we'd miss you terribly, don't you?"

"Didn't I just say you don't have to tell me that kind of thing?"

Jim smiled, but it was a sheepish sort of smile, and he ducked his head away for a moment before looking back to McCoy. "Then it doesn't come as a surprise that Spock and I would like you to be happy, does it?"

"Not really - you're my friends. It's normal for friends to want each other to be happy." McCoy glanced at Spock again, and this time found him looking in their direction, somber and impassive. He wondered if Spock knew that _he_ knew... Not that there was a reason he shouldn't. "Even if one of those friends is uncomfortable with happiness, as a general rule. Speaking of," he added, uncertain of his wording. "I guess... I could say that I'm happy for you two, if that counts."

Spock raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with Jim. Who did likewise. Damn - they were starting to act alike, McCoy thought to himself... but not really, even if they were picking up each other's mannerisms.

"So you _did_ know," Jim said, turning back to him with another little smile. "I wasn't sure. Spock was."

"I think I was sure before either of you, actually." He'd been there after the late shifts, watching Jim drink his liquor and talk about Spock. He'd seen the way Spock followed Jim around, the way his eyes remained on his captain in a way that seemed like more than just loyalty.

And though he was happy for them, it was one of the things that had driven him to accept Natira's offer. He and Spock had had a few... experimental moments, when their arguments couldn't seem to be resolved with words, and their blood burned hot. But Spock was new to this whole thing, and he himself was too old and bitter to put a positive face on it... And then there had been moments between Jim and himself, too - times their eyes had met and lingered, flirtations over drinks which McCoy couldn't take seriously, more flirtations that _weren't_ over drinks which he _still_ tried not to take seriously, because Jim was just like that. Sometimes he'd thought Jim just might be about to kiss him - and he'd thought of Spock and hoped that he didn't. Jim deserved better than a cynical wreck of a man.

Once he'd figured out that his two friends had gotten themselves together - literally - he _was_ genuinely glad. But he was also aware that it left him on his own again. Expendable. Story of his life, really. Maybe he could have put those mixed feelings behind him, if he'd gone off with the Yonada and a brand new wife who still didn't know him well enough to realize how pathetic he was, who might never have the time to figure it out. He'd have been dead almost before the honeymoon was over.

Although he wasn't sorry to have more than a year to live, he couldn't help but wonder...

"I wouldn't be surprised," Jim murmured. "I also wouldn't be surprised if happiness wasn't the only thing you were feeling."

That earned Spock a sharp look, but he simply nodded. "I come from a race of telepaths," he told McCoy. "When Vulcans take a mate among themselves, it is unwise, if not impossible, to attempt to withhold information from each other. It seemed counterintuitive to withhold information from a mate simply because he is not a Vulcan."

"Well, that's just great," McCoy grumbled in annoyance. "Listen, Jim - I've got no intention of getting in your way. You two work well together. You're good for each other."

"I'm pleased that you think so," Jim told him with a faint smile. "However, I also think you and Spock are good for each other."

"Good for each other?" McCoy gave him an exasperated look. Which may have looked just a little wavery - Jim _couldn't_ be implying what it seemed like he was implying, though he'd thought the same thing. "If you're a sadist, maybe," he scoffed.

Jim just smiled, and glanced to Spock. Though he said nothing, Spock nodded and stepped away from the door, coming to sit behind McCoy on the bed. His eyes were averted, his expression unreadable.

Not so with McCoy, whose eyes widened as Spock's hands fell upon his shoulders from behind, his fingers caressing stiff, tense muscles. "What are you doing, Spock?"

"I am attempting to relieve some of the stress you are feeling," Spock answered, matter-of-fact.

"Spock has incredible hands," Jim told McCoy with a wink.

McCoy was already aware of that, and he shouldn't be. And Jim especially shouldn't know that he was aware of it, but he did. McCoy licked his lips, growing vaguely nervous. "Spock, you don't have to do this just because he asked you to."

"Actually, doctor," Jim informed him, "it was Spock's idea. I just agreed with him."

McCoy felt Spock's thumbs beginning to work on his upper back, pressing hard - it hurt for a moment, but then...

"It would work even better if you took off your shirt," Jim told him, leaning back in his chair and watching with a grin as McCoy's eyes rolled back in his head in pleasure.

"May I, Leonard?" Spock inquired, pausing with his hands on McCoy's shoulder, by the fastening of his shirt.

...Spock had never called him 'Leonard' before when anyone else was around. He hardly ever called him that at all - only in particularly suggestive moments between them, which were few and far between. Having Jim sitting there _hearing_ it was unnerving. Not to mention, skin to skin contact was pretty intimate for a Vulcan, and Jim had to know that. But when McCoy looked to him, Jim was just watching, calmly, a vaguely interested, amused look in his eyes. "It's all right," he assured McCoy.

"Jim..." McCoy began, hesitant. "Spock..." It wasn't that he didn't want this, but... "Look, I don't want to get between the two of you," he said at last.

"Funny," Jim remarked getting up from where he was seated. "That's exactly what _I_ was hoping you would do. Do you mind...?"

"Do I mind _what_?" McCoy asked, wary and perhaps just a little bit frantic, looking up at Jim standing in front of him.

"Or were you under the mistaken impression," Jim continued, dropping to his knees, looking up at McCoy for a change, "that Spock is the only man here who has entertained thoughts of more than one person, or felt indecision regarding his two closest companions?"

McCoy had had the feeling, certainly, but... "...Are you talking about yourself, or me?" Jim just smiled wider.

"Indeed," Spock said, almost in his ear. "Jim has been attracted to you for quite some time, but had come to believe after so many failed attempts at flirtation that your orientation left you unattainable."

"My..." McCoy didn't even know what to say about that. "You've got to be kidding," he said instead, shaking his head in disbelief. "Jim, I know perfectly well I'm nothing to look at..."

"You may not be the classically handsome sort of man," Jim admitted, resting his hands on McCoy's knees, still smiling up at him. "But your eyes are beautiful. I'm also fond of your hands," he added, reaching for one of them and caressing, "and your smile - you have a wonderful smile, when you do smile. I haven't seen that smile once since we returned from the Yonada; I'd like to see it again."

McCoy couldn't manage it, not right then. Jim squeezed his hand. "Furthermore, you're loyal and brave - don't give me that look, Bones, you _are_ brave. I've seen you walk straight into the lion's den just because it had to be done, and no one else dared. You're brutally honest, you've been my confidant and friend and bartender and doctor - and as a doctor," he added with a twinkle in his eye, "you have the most endearingly _terrible_ bedside manner that I've ever encountered."

Faced with Jim's mischievous smile, McCoy only managed to retain his cross expression because it was the expression he was already wearing. He didn't know what to say, or what to think. Or whether he should be touched by Jim's praise, or offended by that last bit. "...That's only because you're the most exasperating patient in the whole galaxy," he managed.

"Need I go on?" Jim asked.

"I think I already have more than enough evidence to relieve you of your duties due to some sort of delusional condition," McCoy muttered, utterly failing to break contact with those sparkling hazel eyes of Jim's.

Jim didn't falter. "Is it all right?"

Spock's hands were on his waist now, just resting there and holding him, warm and firm - and Jim was actually _kneeling_ there, on his floor... It was perhaps inevitable.

He nodded. Jim's smile turned brighter still, and he aimed it up over McCoy's shoulder, to Spock behind him. The next thing McCoy knew, he was holding up his arms as four hands removed his shirt.

"Rather than relieving his tension," Spock observed, his hands returning to McCoy's shoulders and upper back - and McCoy would swear that those fingers _tingled_ where they touched - I believe that we are adding to it."

"Is that your idea of-" McCoy was cut off, taking a deep breath as he felt Spock's lips against the back of his neck, warm and gentle as they nuzzled down to his shoulder. He couldn't exactly deny Spock's words, he'd stiffened right up for a second. "...Of a joke?"

"I do not joke, Leonard," Spock replied.

"The hell you don't," McCoy muttered, but it was difficult to sound properly grouchy when Spock was touching him like this.

"I believe this new source of tension is not displeasing, however."

"You could say that."

Jim was standing back after tossing McCoy's shirt aside, just watching his two best friends, seemingly enthralled. McCoy knew he couldn't stay there long, however - Jim always wanted to be in the center of the action - and sure enough, he stepped closer, taking McCoy's face between his hands, caressing the aching temples. "Just let us know," he murmured, looking into McCoy's eyes, "if you're uncomfortable with anything we're doing."

"I'm already uncomfortable with it," McCoy admitted. "Even if I'm not one hundred percent heterosexual, and perfectly okay with that, I've never actually been with another man before. Much less two."

"So I guess we shouldn't double up on you too fast - should we, Spock?" he added, giving Spock a teasing look.

"I suspect that orchestrating an appropriate position for such an act might prove problematic," Spock murmured against McCoy's neck.

"I think we could manage, between the three of us," Jim told him, his attention focused solely on McCoy once more. His gaze was hypnotic - McCoy could hardly believe that adoring look in Jim's eyes was aimed at him. "I'm imaginative, you're an expert in physical and spatial manipulation - and the doctor here knows a great deal about anatomy."

"Whoa there," McCoy warned him, his mind already moving ahead of itself to imagine exactly what they were talking about. "Take it easy, Jim, this is new to me."

"I'm kidding," Jim assured him, stroking his cheek once more before leaning in. "We'll take it nice and slow for you..."

Suddenly McCoy regretted all the times he'd thought Jim was about to kiss him and hoped that he wouldn't - because now that Jim _was_ kissing him, it was pretty damn nice. Their lips barely brushed each other at first, their breath mingling between, but then Jim dropped to his knees again, guiding McCoy's face down towards his to kiss him more soundly. Jim was all kinds of passionate, holding back nothing, not the slightest bit shy or self-conscious, but not needy or demanding either. Unlike any woman he'd ever kissed, and McCoy found that he was kissing back differently as well; there was no need to be gentle or cautious or polite with Jim, and he reached out to pull Jim closer against him, cupping the back of Jim's head in one hand.

He was in between the two of them now - Spock's arms had gone around his chest from behind, holding him close as Spock's lips explored his shoulder, and Jim's arms were around his waist, wedging himself between McCoy's knees. His stomach was right up against McCoy's groin, and even if McCoy had been uncertain about the whole thing before, he couldn't help but react to the attention the two of them were lavishing upon him.

It was Jim who groaned into their kiss first, however, squeezing McCoy tightly and then turning his head just enough to let him speak. "I want you, Bones..."

There was still an undertone of that groan in his breathy words, and McCoy could feel himself getting harder just from the sound of his voice. He had never been comfortable voicing his own desires, though, and in fact he'd been largely denying them since the divorce. Jim speaking so frankly about _his_ made him feel a little shaky, and he knew he couldn't reciprocate. "Jim, I, ah..." he began, not quite knowing how to finish. But there was one thing he definitely knew he wanted, though perhaps not so pleasing as many of the other possibilities that were now before him. "...You two should take off your shirts too," he managed.

Jim grinned up at him, and McCoy almost regretted the request as both sets of arms withdrew. "Is it examination time, Dr. McCoy?" he teased.

"Something like that." McCoy rolled his eyes, taking advantage of the momentary respite to lean back on his hands a little and catch his breath. "I'm never going to be able to do a simple, routine physical on either of you again, am I?"

"I trust that you will not allow our relationship to interfere with your professionalism," Spock told him, pulling his own shirt over his head.

"I trust _you_," Jim added, tossing his shirt off to the side, and taking Spock's to do the same.

But McCoy was still a little caught up on what Spock had said. "...Relationship? But you two..."

"We have discussed it," Spock informed him, as he turned to look. "It would be illogical for the two of us alone to form a partnership when there is a third party in whom we have mutual interest."

"As long as that third party's interest was also mutual," Jim added, his hand resting on McCoy's knee. "I'm getting the impression that it is."

"...I don't know," McCoy muttered. The old bitterness was starting to catch up on him. "I thought you two were just trying to cheer me up."

"We'd rather cheer you up on a more permanent basis than just once," Jim pointed out.

McCoy deflated a little, recognizing the futility of the situation. "I appreciate it, I really do, you're the best friends anyone could ask for," he told them, quite honestly, "but I don't want to ruin that. And I would. I've never been much good with relationships."

"May I point something out, Leonard?" Spock inquired, moving up to sit next to him.

"Sure, if you want."

"I would argue that the three of us are already part of a relationship," Spock told him, "and that we have been for some time. We already know one another intimately, from a mental and emotional standpoint. We are unlikely to be surprised or displeased by each other's faults or failings, for we are already aware of them, and in the habit of compensating for each other's weaknesses rather than looking down upon them. Regardless of whether or not we add a physical aspect to our pre-existing relationship, none of us need fear rejection."

Which was, of course, why McCoy had never gotten _truly_ serious with anyone since Jocelyn. Why he could only consider marriage again when he knew it wouldn't last long enough for the woman to get to know him. But Spock was right. Both Spock and Jim already knew him, inside and out, had already supported him in good times and bad.

"This could be a one-time thing if that's what you want," Jim told him. "Or, as we said - we could just add another dimension to something that's already permanent. Either way, neither of us is going to give up on you. _You've_ never given up on _us_, have you?"

McCoy shook his head slightly, closing his eyes. He could feel that bitterness starting to slip away, and it frightened him - it had been a part of him for years, he wasn't sure what would happen if he let go. But they were right, they both were. All this time he'd been assuming the worst about his prospects, about _himself_, and this had been right in front of him. He felt suddenly very tired, and although he wasn't going to cry or anything like that, he could feel himself getting a little misty.

"I believe," Spock remarked, in Jim's direction, "that this is not making him smile as you had hoped, but rather having the opposite effect."

"It's not the smile itself that's important, but the feeling behind it," Jim replied, from down in front of him, and McCoy heard the shift in position as he stood, and his voice softened. "Come on, Bones - why don't we lie down?"

McCoy nodded, and Spock left his side for a moment, turning down the covers on his bed while Jim rested a hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked.

McCoy again nodded. "Yeah, Jim, I'm fine. I just..." He was touched, that was all. And a little overwhelmed.

The hand on his shoulder squeezed, then nudged him with its knuckles. "What do you say...?"

"I say you two are better friends than I deserve," McCoy said honestly, opening his eyes to look up at Jim, and Spock standing at his shoulder, waiting.

He scooted back on the bed, up where he could lie down properly, and Jim slid in behind him, resting an arm along the pillow before McCoy could lay his head down. He held them together, his chest to McCoy's back, as Spock got in on the other side, pulling the covers up over all three of them. He just lay there for a moment, looking at McCoy with that unreadable expression. "Although this is not the first time we have found ourselves in a potentially intimate position," he noted, "I admit that I find it unusual to be so close to you, looking you in the eye, when neither of us has been shouting." A moment later, his eyebrow raised. "Jim, you were interested in his smile; perhaps you are on the wrong side."

Jim chuckled in McCoy's ear. "I like it just fine where I am," he said, and planted a brief kiss on McCoy's ear as well. "I'll see that smile for myself later."

"Don't get cocky, Jim," McCoy muttered, but already the two of them were making it impossible for him to be quite so sarcastic as usual. "You seem to have a pretty high opinion of yourself."

"Spock hasn't had any complaints," Jim reasoned. "Have you, Spock?"

Spock's hand rested in the center of McCoy's chest, and now it began to stroke downwards, tracing over his stomach. Again, the touch of his fingers seemed to tingle, and his response to Jim seemed mildly distracted. "Apart from your talking too much, no."

"That's not very charitable of you," Jim retorted good-naturedly. "Especially when I do plenty with my mouth aside from talking."

McCoy snorted, and only barely stopped himself from telling Jim that was too much information. Considering the position they were in - and the fact that he could feel Jim's erection pressing against the back of his thigh - the information wasn't exactly off-topic. It was also kind of... interesting.

"I remind you," Spock murmured, his fingers drawing a line up to McCoy's side, cupping the curve of his hip in his palm, "that our focus at present is not to resolve our own miniscule differences of opinion, but to please Leonard. However, you have given me an idea."

"I think I had the same idea," Jim mumbled, though his mouth was already plenty busy mapping the entirety of McCoy's neck and shoulder. "What do you say, Bones? Do you have any bright ideas?"

"Ah..." It was hard to form sentences with the two of him showering him in so much attention. "...Nothing terribly original, probably."

"Probably not, no," Jim agreed, with a grin that was actually _audible_. "Well, Spock?"

"Just one moment, Jim," Spock requested, "before you begin." He was touching, lightly, and still looking McCoy in the eye, which _was_ a little unnerving considering that it usually meant they were having an argument on the verge of erupting into something more personal. Not that this situation wasn't on that same precipice, and after a brief, cautious hesitation, it did erupt.

Spock's mouth was hot on his, and so was his body, pressing against his torso, long and lean. Spock's thigh rubbed between his, and McCoy groaned into the kiss. He'd been a little wary of getting their pants off, but at the moment, he didn't want anything more. As if Spock knew what he was thinking - and maybe he did, McCoy had to acknowledge - the fingers that had been stroking him reached for the waistband of his pants. They were intercepted momentarily by Jim's, coming from behind to unzip him, and then reaching over to unzip Spock's as well. For a moment, Jim's hand and Spock's were trapped between his and Spock's bodies, and McCoy could feel them clasp briefly, fingers stroking along fingers. He would have felt like something of an intruder, if not for the fact that a split second later, both those hands were at his waist, tugging his pants and underwear down as two pairs of lips worked themselves over the back of his neck and his jawline.

Jim's hand withdrew for a moment to open his own pants, and McCoy was struck by how unabashed Jim was when he panted against McCoy's neck, obviously stroking himself briefly before his hand returned to exploring McCoy's chest and stomach, caressing taut muscles and rubbing his thumb over a hardening nipple. He was still panting, in fact, even moaning a little at times, as he rocked his body against McCoy's back. Spock, by contrast, was a master of self-control and focus; his attention was fully on McCoy, his kisses open-mouthed now and intense, but without Jim's abandon. One hand cupped McCoy's face, the other working downward with that tingling touch to... McCoy gasped and almost choked when Spock started stroking him. The only noticeable insight into Spock's condition was the quickened breaths, the raggedness of his breathing.

Jim must have noticed _something_, though, because his rocking motion ceased suddenly, his exploring hand going to clasp McCoy's shoulder. "Not too fast, now," he breathed. "We had a plan, didn't we? Still good, Bones?"

"I don't really care what you two do to me," McCoy admitted, rolling onto his back as Spock released him, just so he could breathe easier, and he kicked his pants the rest of the way off his ankles. He was far too aroused to be self-conscious anymore, especially when Jim was just as bad and not the slightest bit ashamed. "Just as long as whoever's doing it does it soon."

"Well," Jim panted, "there are certain things Spock's not comfortable with... but then again..." His hair was mussed in a strangely endearing way, McCoy noted, as Jim looked over him to meet Spock's eyes. "One of us could take the back, one of us takes the front?" At Spock's thoughtful nod, Jim turned his attention back to McCoy, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Is that all right?"

"I... ah..." McCoy had some idea how that all lined up, and although he'd been a little uneasy about penetration initially, he was becoming more open to the idea. Mostly because based on what they'd been saying, Spock would be doing the penetrating - and Spock was lying there next to him, one hand resting on his chest, with those dark eyes looking more open and alive than McCoy had ever seen them look before. It was, to use one of the man's own words, 'fascinating'. "...I think that's all right..."

Jim and Spock exchanged another glance over him, Jim's smile deepening, and Spock drew in a breath. "Knowing that this was a possibility, I did bring appr-"

"I've got a better idea," Jim interrupted, and reached up to push the blankets back from all of them. Spock half-sat, propped up on his elbows as Jim crawled over the top of McCoy. "More enjoyable for everyone than fumbling around to find it - can you wait just a second longer, Bones?"

Both he and Spock had already figured out what Jim was doing, based on the way Jim was kneeling between McCoy's knees, bending over Spock beside him, and Spock settled himself more squarely to present his own erection immodestly, his head tilting back just a bit as he watched Jim. "Yeah... I think I can," McCoy replied. He wasn't even sure who he wanted to watch more, Jim or Spock.

He started out watching Jim - how the hell had he learned how to do that? - but was almost immediately distracted by a shuddering breath from Spock, and looked back, enthralled by the sight of the Vulcan so taken by something so _human_... Not that sexual intercourse was restricted to humans, of course, but the expression on Spock's face, his jaw set and his eyes lolling closed, was so far removed from any of his usual expressions that he looked nearly like a different person.

And Jim was going to be doing that to _him_ in a second, McCoy remembered, looking back to Jim halfway down the bed, watching Jim practically swallowing Spock, drawing his lips back up slowly, leaving his entire length slick with saliva. More was not strictly necessary, but Jim repeated the process a few more times. Possibly for show; McCoy had just been thinking that it was no wonder he'd assumed the two of them were going to just leave him out, considering how comfortable Jim and Spock were with each other already - but Jim obviously was thinking of him at least a little bit, because he raised his eyes for a moment, meeting McCoy's. He had no idea how Jim could manage to smile with Spock's cock in his mouth like that.

Spock looked slightly dazed when his eyes opened again, just a crack, as Jim finished and sat back, brushing a hand over his wet lips. "Is this course of action still acceptable, Leonard?" Spock asked.

McCoy felt a little dazed himself. He didn't know where to look - at Jim, sitting there at his side looking like the cat that swallowed the canary, at the intriguing expression on Spock's face, or at Spock's erection jutting out from between his parted thighs. His own twitched with a jealous ache, and he fought the urge to touch himself. That was unnecessary for any number of reasons. "...How exactly are we going to do this?"

"I've got some idea," Jim told him. "Above all, we want you to be comfortable - so just lie back, Bones, and let us take care of you."

"Guess I can manage that," McCoy muttered, adjusting the pillow behind his head. However they were going to do this, he wanted to see.

Spock was willing to let Jim do the planning; at Jim's prodding, he got up to kneel between McCoy's knees, which Jim had gently pulled apart. "Let me loosen him up a little first," Jim suggested, resting a hand on Spock's arm briefly, before aiming that boyish grin back up at McCoy, for only a moment before he leaned over again, this time to kiss McCoy. Although the kiss started on the lips, it didn't stay there, but worked its way to McCoy's chin, his neck, his collarbone... McCoy gasped, squirming under the relentless caresses of Jim's lips - and he'd almost forgotten about Spock for the moment, until he felt warm, wet fingers wrap around his length, stroking very lightly. "Not helping, Spock," McCoy groaned. "Almost worse than not touching me at all."

Hearing his groan, Jim paused and glanced up, shooting a smile back at McCoy before lowering his head again. "I suspect he just doesn't want to horn in on my territory," he murmured against McCoy's stomach.

"Indeed - I would not want you to get too far ahead," Spock agreed.

"Maybe we should hurry," Jim suggested, pausing again in the wet trail he was leaving down McCoy's torso to look up at Spock, who nodded and moved closer. McCoy could only watch, fascinated, while Spock hoisted his legs from either side, raising them to his shoulders. He could no longer see Spock's arousal, just that trail of dark hair leading down and disappearing behind Jim's golden head as Jim worked his way down. He could feel it, though, wet and hard and waiting, the head resting beneath his balls, and he couldn't help but squirm a bit, partly from wariness but mostly from anticipation.

Meanwhile, Jim was being completely distracting, nuzzling around the base of his shaft, and occasionally making the kinds of sounds he made over his meals in the mess hall. McCoy's eyes rolled to the ceiling, only half in exasperation - but before he could get too impatient, Jim gave Spock a nod, and McCoy felt his hips lifted slightly, positioned...

And he couldn't think about that much, because then Jim's mouth was on him, and it was hard to think about anything other than that wet heat engulfing him, stroking and licking and sucking. He moaned, one hand fisting in the sheets while the other came to land on Jim's back. His fingers tried to find something to hold onto, his short nails scratching lightly across the smooth, firm skin.

But then Spock was inside him; after the moment of instinctive resistance, the feeling of Spock sliding in, filling him, was warm and welcome. His teeth clenched, his back arched, as he tried to press back against Spock, but Spock had greater control and kept up the slow push. The Vulcan's eyes, when McCoy looked up, were intense and unfocused, his hands caressing McCoy's thighs where they were held - and then there was Jim, enthusiastically drawing his lips up and down, his fingers moving beneath.

Just the sight of the two of them probably would have been enough to make McCoy come, but then Spock started _moving_, stroking him from the inside, and everything went fuzzy. He did notice that the rhythm of Jim's mouth had become erratic, easily explained when he could actually see again by the fact that Jim had stuck his free hand down between his own legs. Given their relative positions, Jim kneeling by his side and bending over him, McCoy realized with a flash of inspiration what his own hand could be doing; Jim almost choked on him as McCoy's index and middle fingers slid down over his ass into the crevice, teasing at the pucker of skin he found. After the initial surprise, and an appreciative little hum, it only seemed to make Jim _more_ enthusiastic.

His breath was hot on McCoy's cock, and Spock was breathing heavily too, though deeper and more evenly, in time with his thrusts, which were growing more rapid. McCoy found himself so touched by the two of them, his closest friends, lavishing attention on him this way, he almost regretted the position they found themselves in; he wanted to be kissing them, both of them, either of them, but it would have been physically impossible... He still had a hand free, however, and released his grip on the sheets to reach up towards Spock. The dark eyes lifted, still hazy and intense, to meet his, and Spock accepted the offer, taking his hand for McCoy to caress and pull closer, so he could press the fingertips against his lips. Spock actually shuddered, his jaw going slack, and McCoy had to smile through his own shallow breaths. He never would have expected for Spock to allow anyone to see him like this.

He really did, he thought, have the best friends anyone could ask for. And he really _did_ trust them.

And he was already reaching the limits of his endurance, between Spock's strong, firm thrusts and Jim's head buried between his legs. The overwhelming warmth he felt for the two of them only heightened his pleasure, and he gulped in deep breaths of air. "Jim..." he murmured in warning, trying not to buck up into that mouth. He was startled momentarily when, instead of backing off, Jim's head bobbed again as he went down further, practically swallowing him, and that was all McCoy could take.

Spock came only a moment after he did, near-silent as opposed to his own stifled cry, and recovered quickly. Jim wasn't finished yet, but Spock released McCoy's legs while the doctor lay back to catch his breath, and reached over to assist. Jim panted his thanks as he let McCoy's penis slip from between his lips, resting his head on McCoy's stomach as Spock squeezed and stroked. McCoy's fingers stroked through Jim's hair as he finished, rolling over onto his back so that both Spock and McCoy could see the look of rapture that overtook him. Just like Jim to show off, McCoy thought fondly.

When Jim scooted up to lie beside him, McCoy gave him a slightly incredulous look as he moved a pillow over. "Where did you learn to..." he began, then dropped his head back to his own pillow again, shaking his head. "You know, come to think of it, I don't want to know."

"No, I suspect you don't," Jim agreed, dropping an arm over his waist tiredly and closing his eyes.

It sure looked like Jim was intending to spend the night right there, and now Spock was settling down to the other side, more cautious in the way he rested a hand upon McCoy's chest. Just like Spock to actually be considerate of other people's personal space, McCoy thought, unlike Jim... but he didn't actually mind having Jim there. It wasn't _surprisingly_ nice having someone else in his bed... but it _was_ nice, and the surprising part was that he really did think it might be okay if they stayed.

Spock, of course, was not going to make assumptions. "May I assume," he asked quietly, "that you will be considering our proposal?"

McCoy looked to him, already gone stoic again, if a gentler sort of stoic, and then looked to Jim, smiling hopefully at his shoulder. "Really, you two," he said. "What do you take me for?"

Apparently having anticipated his response, Spock had an argument at the ready. "Although the arrangement is historically considered unusual in both our societies," he began.

McCoy cut him off. "I mean, after that? Only an idiot would say no to the possibility of doing it on a regular basis." And maybe, someday, he'd be able to admit to the rest of his reasoning. Not that he probably had to; Spock was smart, and Jim was too. Sometimes. And they did know him better than anyone ever had, including his ex-wife. Either one.

Jim just laughed softly. "Well, in the interest of full disclosure, I suppose I should point out that what just happened won't necessarily happen all the time. I mean, suppose _Spock_ has a rough day," he suggested, gesturing over McCoy's chest to the man on the other side. "Then it might be you and I, teaming up on him."

"Or suppose the captain is paying too much attention to the wellbeing of his ship's crew," Spock added as McCoy nodded thoughtfully, "and not enough to his own."

"Yes, I get the picture - everyone gets a turn in the spotlight," McCoy agreed. "It's only fair."

Fair, but not identical; within a few minutes, he was already spotting the differences between them, but they were nothing he couldn't have guessed. Jim wanted to stay where he was and just cuddle for a while, Spock got up to acquire a glass of water and clean himself up a little. McCoy was still half-pinned under Jim when he returned with drinks for the both of them, but extricated himself long enough to gratefully accept the damp cloth Spock had returned with, where Jim seemed content to just go to sleep like that if they let him. Not in McCoy's bed he wouldn't, and he grinned sheepishly over the rim of his own cup when McCoy told him so.

There were no surprises at all, he already knew Jim and Spock so well. At least not until well after they'd settled back in his bed again, refreshed and moderately more clean, and Jim reached over him with a contented sigh, resting his hand on Spock's shoulder. "...You wouldn't believe," he told them both, "just how long I've wished for exactly this. Just... being here, with both of you, like this."

McCoy's eyebrows raised dubiously. "Here in my quarters?"

"Well, not in your quarters specifically..."

It wasn't exactly what McCoy had ever wished for either. But he supposed that was just because he'd never seen much point in wishing to begin with... and even if he had, this specific arrangement would never have occurred to him as a possibility. The idea that he could have both Jim and Spock, however, made him think that maybe there was a point to hoping and wishing - that maybe anything was possible. Maybe even forever, with someone who knew you and still cared for you. Maybe that was what he'd been missing for all these years, that kind of hope for forever... because for the first time he could remember, McCoy was really, honestly happy.

And that, as it turned out, didn't really surprise him at all.


End file.
